


Officer, Please

by vipjuly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Car Sex, First Time, M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 00:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vipjuly/pseuds/vipjuly
Summary: Castiel is about to get his first ever ticket on his squeaky clean record.The officer has an idea on how he can get out of it.





	Officer, Please

**Author's Note:**

> dusted this off from the archives (a little peek into a time capsule for me), edited it for some good old fashioned deancas.  
> all participants are consenting adults, there is no dubcon!

Castiel likes to think of himself as a good, old-fashioned, law-abiding citizen. He puts coins in charity boxes outside of department stores, donates coats and toys annually to the local children’s organizations, and even mows the elderly lady’s lawn next door free of charge. In school he excelled, and he was always an amazing student to the teachers and a good friend to his comrades, even if he was a little bit of a recluse at times -- and after college, he had done well enough to get a job doing the marketing for his friend’s floral shop, where he proceeds to make an honest living. 

It isn’t a glamorous life.

All of this is to atone for his biggest sin, which isn’t even really a sin in his eyes but his mother likes to think it’s a big deal: homosexuality.

‘Karma will bite you in the ass!’ his mother had always said. He typically refrained from telling her other things blast his ass on a semi-regular basis.

It isn’t exactly appropriate Sunday dinner talk.

Nothing prepared him for the sight of seeing an officer standing next to his car on a sunny, summer day, the meter Castiel’s car had been parked in front of flashing an angry red. 

This is karma.

“Wait--!!” Castiel’s marathon-trained legs hoof it over to where the officer is writing diligently on a legal pad, hat on his head obscuring his features. “Please, I’m here, I’m leaving now--”

When the meter maid lifts his head up to regard Castiel, Castiel is _slammed_ by how good looking the man is. He’s got lush lips and a strong jaw and oh, that uniform stretches over broad shoulders and tapers at his waist beautifully. His eyes are obscured by aviators, but Castiel can feel them burning a judgmental hole right through to his soul anyway.

His mother was right. This is eternal damnation.

He deflates a little, “Please, officer. I’ve never gotten a ticket before in my life.”

The officer arches a brow, the only hint of the action being that the uniform-issued hat on his head raises a bit. His pen stops on the paper, and Castiel takes that as a cue to plead his case.

“I paid for two hours with full intent of coming back in two hours’ time,” Castiel explains, to a rather unimpressed looking officer. “There was a dog while I was walking back and I--” he deflates a little, morose. “I had to pet him.”

The silence that stretches after Castiel’s explanation is drowned out only by the slow traffic that steadily creeps along this downtown street. The officer clicks his pen shut, closes his notepad, and just when Castiel is about to let out a sigh of relief (God is good!!!), a smirk unfurls on the other man’s lips so sinister Castiel thinks he’s going to have to repent for eight years.

“I’ll let you off with a warning, on one condition.”

Lord, the guy’s _voice_ is boner-inducing, and if Castiel doesn’t get into his car and as far away as possible soon, he’s going to be very publicly embarrassed.

“What can I do?” Castiel asks, hoping this sun-freckled officer doesn’t catch the way his voice pitches.

The officer reaches up, finger to the left side of his aviators, pulling them ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. If the officer’s lips are sinful, then his green eyes are feral as they regard Castiel, shooting fireworks straight through him.

“Suck my cock in the back seat of your car.”

God is an asshole.

Castiel’s jaw almost drops onto the pavement. “ _What_?”

“I won’t repeat myself,” the officer sighs, putting his sunglasses back in place and then reaching for his legal pad once more.

“No--” A fifteen dollar ticket really shouldn’t be enough to extort Castiel, but that’s fifteen dollars on his _impeccable_ record, and he can’t allow that. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he hits the unlock and glances around warily, before striding to his car and opening the back door. It’s the middle of the day, on a busy street in downtown, but he gestures at the officer. “In.”

Ok, so he’ll donate to children’s charities in the summer _and_ winter. 

God, forgive.

But his boring life _did_ just get quite more interesting.

Ever so casually, the officer pockets his book again and slinks towards the car, patting Castiel’s crotch with a patronizing palm and sunny smile before climbing into the back seat. Castiel stifles a groan, throws up a Hail Mary for good measure, and then climbs in after the officer, closing the door behind him.

Never before in his life has Castiel ever been more thankful for tinted windows. Inside the car, with the windows up and doors locked the city sounds outside are muted, and he’s distinctly aware of the attractive officer seated next to him. Said officer spreads his legs, undoes his belt, and then gestures idly. 

“Well?”

Castiel can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe he’s sinking to his knees in the footwell of his own car, settling between the legs of some unnamed meter maid, preparing to blow him. Of all things. Is this the karma mother warned him about? Should Castiel have tried to date a girl in college? Should he go to church every Sunday, even if he fears fire consuming him the moment he steps across the threshold? His fingers are a bit shaky as he reaches for the fastenings of the man’s uniform pants, the material feeling a bit cheap and crinkly under his fingertips. He doesn’t think about it, instead marveling at the fact that when he pulls down pants and underwear, the officer is already rock hard, his cock leaking precum and dribbling a little.

Castiel isn’t a size queen, but being on his knees to worship this instead of a heavenly creator is suddenly much preferred.

“Admire with your mouth, not your eyes,” the man says, that rough voice of his floating over Castiel like a harp melody, stroking every one of Castiel’s strings and making him shudder.

It’s not Castiel’s first time sucking dick. It likely won’t be the last either, but what are the odds of a gay officer writing him a ticket? Or maybe the man isn’t gay and this is all just police exploitation, abuse of power, anything to remind the average civilian that freedom isn’t free? Or something like that. It probably isn’t that deep. In any case, Castiel’s no greenhorn, and he jerks the man’s cock a few times before wrapping his lips around the head.

The little sigh the officer lets out encourages Castiel. His lips stretch before he pulls back, licking them as wet as he can, before he gathers saliva in his mouth and lets it pool onto his tongue. He sinks his mouth back onto the man’s cock, closing his eyes, doing as the man said -- admiring with his mouth. This cock is thick, heavy, long. There’s a throbbing, swollen vein and the head is so ridged Castiel accidentally catches his teeth on it. The man only hisses softly, tangling the fingers of a gloved hand in Castiel’s hair to keep him from pulling off.

Easily, Castiel adjusts and starts breathing through his nose. Quickly in, slowly out. He stops using his hands because the way he starts to move his head leaves no room for him to accidentally punch himself in the eye. He’s not exactly graceful, even if he knows he’s pretty stellar at giving blow jobs. The backseat is a new thing. His head twists, his cheeks hollow, his mouth suctions and the car is soon filled with sloppy, wet noises, mixed with moans and breathy sighs. The man starts to shallowly thrust his hips, and Castiel knows that his squeaky clean record is on the line so he grips the man’s hips and helps him thrust up, a clear indication that he can handle more.

And more, he gets.

Now ten fingers are tangling in Castiel’s hair, holding him still. The way the officer fucks up into Castiel’s mouth is perfect -- Castiel bets getting railed by this guy would be phenomenal. As it is, he lets his mouth be a good substitute for his ass, and even though his own cock grows hard in his slacks, he allows the officer to use his mouth to his content. The head of his dick passes Castiel’s gag reflex easily and now Castiel relaxes his throat, breathing shakily out of his nose, eyes watering. A testing flex of his throat muscles has the officer grunting out, sucking in a breath, hips stuttering -- all too soon, liquid heat is pouring down Castiel’s throat and he reflexively swallows it before he even realizes what he’s doing.

The officer pulls out halfway through, jerking his cock and aiming the rest of his load to land on Castiel’s swollen lower lip, a litany of words falling from the man’s mouth in a mesh of praises and blasphemy. Castiel watches the gloved fingers on the skin of the man’s cock like it’s something magical; and, in the blink of an eye, the man is doing up his pants and belt, before he shifts and starts getting out of the car.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Castiel follows, stumbling out of the car since most of the blood from his limbs has all gathered in his dick, leaving him with the grace of a baby giraffe. He knows he looks ridiculous in his rumpled suit, his usually wild hair now uncontrollably messy from where the officer’s gloved hands had caught in the strands.

The officer stretches where he’s standing, putting his hands on his hips and twisting his back until it pops, and then sends Castiel an airy smile. Hat still perched, aviators still donned, he waves a hand and starts to walk away, looking absolutely unruffled.

Castiel notices the meter of the car next to his flashing red, and when the officer passes by it, he can’t help but blurt, “That person doesn’t get a ticket?”

The officer turns on his heel and continues to walk backwards, pulling the aviators completely off his face. _Fuck_ , if he isn’t the hottest guy Castiel has ever seen. That smile is boyishly handsome, almost… devilish, in a way, lifting strong cheekbones to the high heavens. Those verdant green eyes, playful and bright and filled with smolder...

When the officer replies, Castiel hears his voice one last time.

“Not a cop. I ain’t even a meter maid. This is a rental costume.” That smirk widens, and he sends Castiel a mock two-finger salute. “Have a nice day~ and don’t forget to plug your meter!” 

Castiel stares dumbly after the man rounds the block on sturdy, bowed legs and disappears from sight. 

He sinks to lean against the hood of his car. 

The sun is warm on his cheeks. He’s sweaty in his disheveled suit.

His cock is still hard.

Quickly searching his pockets, he pulls out his wallet and fumbles with his debit card, trying not to drop it as he moves towards the meter and inserts it into the slot. He pays for the rest of the day and makes sure to get everything tucked safely back into his wallet, before shoving it back into the pocket of his slacks and taking off in the direction of the imitation officer.

“Lord forgive me,” he says under his breath. 

He definitely wants this karma to bite him in the ass, today.

**Author's Note:**

> two things:  
> 1) i am participating in the Fic Facer$ auction! a close friend of mine will be matching the winning bid on me (up to $150) to be donated directly to Random Acts. it's your chance to get your dream fic from me as well as give to a good cause. [click here](https://www.juliahouston.com/fic-facers/vipjuly-bid-form/) to see my bid form!  
> 2) [click here](https://twitter.com/deansdaisydukes/status/1062404745527123968?s=20) to see how you can receive a special gift from me this holiday season!  
> ♥


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